


left-hand man, right-hand man

by Morbane



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Crossover, Gen, crossovering treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbane/pseuds/Morbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The provisional Arthur and provisional Galahad confront each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left-hand man, right-hand man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Draycevixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/gifts).



Walking around the Dining Room, examining the portraits, the furniture, and the more modern conveniences - installations of electronic equipment designed to detract as little as possible from the original style of the room - Mycroft Holmes found himself pausing at the spot to the left of the chair at the head of the table. Had the chair had an occupant, he would have been standing behind that man or woman's shoulder. That it was empty preoccupied his thoughts.

Chester King's bequest was a dangerous temptation, and Chester had known that Mycroft would be unable to resist it. How had he known that?

He heard a tread in the hallway - one that fell silent by the door. 

After a moment, he said, "Yes?" and turned to face whoever had stopped to stare in at him.

It was the youngest Kingsman agent. Eggsy Unwin. Provisionally, Galahad. As he himself was provisional - though Eggsy disregarded that nuance as he challenged, "So you're the new Arthur."

Mycroft frowned at him, wondering too long whether to dissemble. The narrowing of Eggsy's eyes showed that the statement had been a guess, not a certainty - though he now judged it confirmed.

"Been wondering. How does a person get a job like that?"

One might well wonder. "Why, career-minded?" Mycroft countered.

"Just curious," Eggsy said, with a self-deprecating hunch of his shoulders.

Given that he had poisoned the last person who had sat at the head of the table, Mycroft could hardly judge it an innocent question. 

"In the usual tradition of royalty," Mycroft said, "by inheritance." The bequest was so unexpected and unusual, it would have suited a Gothic novel. Complete with bachelors and orphans.

Eggsy asked, "So Arthur, he was a friend of yours?" His tone was faintly accusing now.

"You might have noticed me at his funeral," Mycroft murmured. "However, I didn't think you were there."

"Been a lot of funerals lately," Eggsy said calmly. 

That was true.

A pause; they were at something of a standstill. Mycroft considered shifting tactics. The Kingsman byline of personal loyalty indicated that it was correct to claim that he had cared about the previous Arthur, a man with whom he was not closely acquainted; the connection was also an edge to hold over Eggsy, who had engineered his death. But perhaps it was too sharp an edge.

"Chester King was more a mentor than he was a friend," he said. Ah. He saw Eggsy relax very slightly.

It was an exaggeration, but not quite a lie. To Mycroft, Chester King had been one of many men in dignified clubs and private rooms who had occasionally graced him with advice. When convenient, Mycroft had appeared to take it. There were advantages (some) to being seen to hold a debt; to being placed in the position of student and heir. Chester had been a figure of Mycroft's early career. His visible political activities had declined in later years. It seemed that his less visible ones had multiplied. 

Mycroft had set himself to observe; Chester had apparently observed his observing.

"It seems that he consigned this organization to me as a remote contingency... should something happen to him." Mycroft raised his eyebrows at Eggsy.

"He agreed to help set off genocide," Eggsy retorted. No care for Mycroft's "friend" or "mentor" now. Terrible manners. "He should have figured something might happen to him."

Mycroft stared at him for a moment, then conceded, "Indeed." So why had Chester King not prepared alternate arrangements?

That the Kingsman organization should come to him was still a puzzle, and until he had time to go through its most obscure records, he could not determine whether Chester's bequest was pure whim, a surrender of the powers and functions of Kingsman to the British government, or something in between. He'd had to accept Kingsman in order to have access to those records. A neat trap.

The Government could not control Kingsman. The bureaucratic nightmare that would entail was the kind from which one did not wake sane.

However, the Kingsman organization was too dangerous to allow to continue without governance.

Potentially, it was also too useful to disband.

Presumably, the previous Arthur had counted on that.

Presumably, the previous Arthur had had some expectation of what Mycroft would do next.

"So," Eggsy said. Mycroft looked at him, surprised he was still there. Come to think of it, he hadn't explained his presence in the first place.

"So?" Mycroft echoed back, waiting.

Whatever Eggsy had been thinking of saying seemed to die on his tongue. His gaze darted around the room. In a complete non-sequitur, he said, "Nice taste in umbrellas," and vanished down the hall. A peace offering, Mycroft supposed.

Orphans and bachelors, he thought again, and pondered the next complication.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved your prompt! Hope you like this short treat.


End file.
